


Like It Could Last

by Gottaread2



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Angst, Angst and Feels, But only because it had to be to fit into canon, But still hopeful cause Ed really does love Os, Fix-It of Sorts, Gap Filler, Hopeful Ending, Hurt/Comfort, Like they are both totally in love even if they don't say it, M/M, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Pining, Sad Ending, Unrequited Love, Y'all know what happens next, season 4
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-04
Updated: 2018-08-04
Packaged: 2019-06-21 17:46:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,974
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15563124
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gottaread2/pseuds/Gottaread2
Summary: Wrote this as an in-between for what happened after that dock scene in 4.15 but before Ed and Os part ways because what the hell happened?! Watch me fill that gap with angst, pining, and wishful thinking!





	Like It Could Last

They left the pier behind them, hopefully never to return again. Oswald wanted nothing more than to close the page on that painful chapter of their history. Well, almost nothing, he thought glancing at Edward. Maybe finally they could move forward together. They made a good team. Oswald turned to his ally, just about to tell him so, but Edward spoke first.

"This changes nothing." Edward told him, carefully wiping the blood from his mouth.

"What do you mean?" Oswald inquired, feeling confused. 

"What I mean is that we are even now. I more than held up my end of the deal. And while I do appreciate your rescuing me, you had your chance at Sofia." Edward explained, "So our partnership is no longer needed."

Oswald couldn’t believe what he was hearing. He'd just given up everything to save this man. Revealed his hand. Showed Edward just how much he still cared. Confided in him his trust.

"So you are going to act like this meant nothing to you?" Oswald hissed incredulously, "After everything?"

"After everything, you really think it could ever be more. We aren't friends anymore, Oswald.” Edward paused a moment, “Well, you and I were never friends. You were friends with Edward Nygma and you helped me put him away."

“That isn't true and you know it!” Oswald howled, “That man, the one at the asylum, he was _not_ Riddler or Ed Nygma. At least not the Ed Nygma I knew!”

"It doesn't matter now.” Edward told him coldly, “The Ed you knew is _gone_.”

“No. The Ed I knew stands before me. You may call yourself Riddler, but don't think for a second you can fool me. I know you, Ed.”

Finally fed up, Edward's emotions broke through, “I _am_ Riddler! You killed the Ed you knew when you broke his heart without care! When you killed Isabella! And then you locked me away in the prison of that other dull Ed's mind when you FROZE ME!"

Oswald was momentarily stunned into silence. So that was how Ed still saw him. After everything they had gone through, would Edward never see him as anything more than his mistakes? Was there really no chance at redemption for them?

"You once told me you would do anything for me. That I could always count on you..." Oswald said slowly, carefully choosing his words, "If you really meant what you said... if you would really do anything..."

Edward cut him off, "I did, I mean, _he_ meant it, but that was before you betrayed Ed. You can't expect me to do that for you now."

"You said ANYTHING! Ed, _anything_ should include being able to forgive what I have done!" Oswald continued in his attempt to convince him. Tears were forming in his eyes which he blinked away angrily. He couldn't help them. 

Edward was about to turn and walk away. He didn't want to stay and deal with this. He had gotten rid of those pesky emotions when he became the Riddler. But being here now, hearing Oswald's desperate tone. It was beginning to crack his carefully created persona, making him feel things he wanted to deny. He couldn't allow that! Not even for Oswald.

"You're the only one who was ever really on my side. The only one I could trust." Oswald insisted in a broken whisper, "Just let me have that for one more night. Let me imagine it could be like it was before."

"What exactly are you suggesting, Oswald?" Edward sighed.

“Come home with me.” Oswald’s tone softened with his plea, “Please, just for tonight. You're injured. Let me take care of you.”

His words hung heavy in the air between them. Oswald stood, waiting with bated breath for Edward's reply. The man seemed to be considering his suggestion seriously.

“Just for tonight."

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Silence stretched between them, as they drove away from the pier. The only exchange of words being the location of the orphan boy, Martin. Oswald fixed his eyes on the rode ahead, pointedly ignoring the nervous tap of Riddler's fingers against the passenger door. Was he that uncomfortable in his presence? Oswald tried not to dwell on it. At least the Riddler had accepted his offer. Oswald would try to imagine that it was for some other reason that Edward seemed agitated. That it wasn't to do with him, but some other stress from their day. He would try to imagine he hadn't had to try so hard to convince Edward to come with him. It wasn't working. He needed to distract his mind from these thoughts. 

Oswald reached his hand over to turn on the radio, startled by the brush of skin against his fingers. Edward had been reaching for it as well, and quickly withdrew his own hand awkwardly. Oswald glanced over at him, but Edward had already turned away to stare out the window, face hidden from Oswald's view.  
Where was the easy companionship they had before? Things had seemed so simple immediately after his rescue from Arkham. Oswald couldn't understand the sudden change in Ed. He seemed so distant, nothing like he was before when they had been scheming Sofia's demise together.

He turned on the radio, allowing whatever music was already on to play rather than flipping through the channels. It didn't really matter to him what was playing as long as something filled the silence. As the first notes of the song drifted through the car, Edward's incessant tapping immediately halted. Oswald peaked over at him noting how the other man had become suddenly very rigid. His hands were clenched tightly into fists. His expression was still hidden from sight.

_It's okay in the day_  
_I'm staying busy_  
_Tied up enough so I don't have to wonder_  
_where is he_  
_Got so sick of crying_  
_So just lately…_

The song continued to play and Oswald listened carefully to the words, trying to understand Edward's strange reaction. He was baffled. He couldn't decipher anything particularly offensive about the bitter lyrics. It seemed an ordinary enough, although admittedly tragic, sort of love song. Then the chorus began to play.

_He's fierce in my dreams,_  
_seizing my guts_  
_He floats me with dread_  
_Soaked in soul_  
_He swims in my eyes by the bed_  
_Pour myself over him_  
_Moon spilling in_  
_And I wake up alone_

He watched Edward become even more tense. Hesitantly, Oswald suggested, “I could turn it off, if you'd prefer?”

“I'd appreciate that.” Edward croaked, voice raw with... emotion?

Oswald turned off the music, feeling even more bewildered. He couldn't see Riddler's face, but, judging by the way he sounded, the song must have brought up some painful memory for the man. Oswald felt a pang of guilt for having caused it, even though it was unintentional. He could never seem to stop hurting Ed, even when he was trying his best not to. They spent the rest of the ride in silence, each one lost in their own melancholy.

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Oswald brought Edward home. To the home they had both once shared. The place felt haunted, not by ghosts, but by bitter sweet memories and broken promises of what could have been. They struck at him like the violent waves of the ocean. Oswald hesitated to enter, hand resting on the door knob to the Van Dahl mansion. If he opened it, would he drown? He felt a hand on his shoulder. Edward's hand. The warmth of it seeped through the fabric of his coat and the gentle pressure pulled him back to the present. He turned the knob. The door slowly swung open. 

It was just as he had left it and also completely different. The air was musty from disuse, a layer of dust covering everything in sight. It looked like home. It looked like an alien place. It was so familiar, and yet Oswald no longer felt that same sense of belonging he once experienced while living here. Like it was all the setting of another lifetime.

Edward strutted in, like he owned the place and Oswald followed after him. They made their way into the sitting room. Edward plopped down on the couch, leaning his head back and closing his eyes. He had never felt more exhausted and the throbbing pain in his mouth was irritating. He heard the awkward steps of Oswald's hobbling gait as he left the room. The man reappeared shortly after carrying in a first aid kit. Ed eyed him warily, not sure he trusted Oswald to know what he was doing well enough to patch him up. He was certain that what he needed now was professional care, but it would have to wait until Sophia was confirmed dead. Until then, it was too risky to go to a hospital. Ed should have insisted on finding Lee. He wasn't sure why he hadn't.

Oswald's touch was surprisingly gentle, cotton swab moving with feather light brushes over Edward's bloodied face. He wiped up the blood and gave Ed some water to rinse his mouth, but was otherwise unable to do much for it. Oswald turned his attention instead to the nasty gash in Ed's thigh. And this did sting, despite Oswald's delicate care.

Oswald asked him to pull down his trousers, a light blush creeping across his face. Necessary as it was, Oswald worried how Ed might take the request based on their history. His worry was unfounded, however. Edward meerly nodded in agreement and began unbuttoning his pants. He slipped them down his legs, wincing as the fabric rubbed over the injury. With the garment out of the way, Oswald applied some disinfectant. Once the wound was clean, he wrapped Ed's thigh in bandages. It was not the neatest patch up, but it would do the job until Edward could recieve proper medical attention.

"Thank you, Oswald."

The appreciation suprised him. Oswald's cheeks grew even redder. There was a flutter inside him and it was all the same feelings he'd had before rushing back. Why must Edward always effect him so?

"Um, of course... You, you are welcome." Oswald stammered.

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They scavenged the kitchen, looking for anything edible. Oswald had no idea where anything was kept. His familiarity with this particular kitchen did not extend passed knowing where the wine was.

Edward haphazardly flung open random cupboards until he found the canned goods. He scanned the contents, finding several varieties of soup. 

"Chicken noodle or french onion?" Edward asked, offering the cans to Oswald.

"I don't suppose we have any minestrone?" Oswald questioned hopefully.

"As a matter of fact..." Edward began, rooting through the cupboard once more.

Oswald sat back patiently. He supposed he should just be greatful they had food. Edward didn't seem to mind though, busying himself with the task of finding the desired soup.

"Tada! Minestrone." Edward declared triumphantly.

Oswald clapped his hands in appreciation. Edward rose up to dramatically take a bow at the applause. He thanked his adoring fans for their support (only Oswald). It was completely ridiculous. The two collapsed into fits of laughter. Maybe it wasn't _that_ funny, but the tension between them lifted. They each wiped laugh tears from their eyes panting heavily to catch their breath. And it was like old times.

With the chosen soup in hand, Edward made his way to the stove, grabbing a pot suspended from a rack overhead. Now to find a can opener. But Oswald was way ahead of him, already rummaging through drawers until he came upon the tool. He handed it off to Ed, fingers brushing, and the man began preparing their modest meal.

Perched on a nearby chair, Oswald watched Edward methodically stirring. The man hummed as he worked and soon the kitchen was filled with the smell of warm food and the harmonious tones of Ed's voice. It was completely comfortable. Oswald sighed contentedly. This was all he had ever really wanted.

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They did not dine in the dining room. Without having to say it aloud, they both somehow instinctively knew to avoid going there. It just would not have felt right. Like the familiarity of the place might break the spell of the fragile peace encompassing them. For now their shared company was simple, not burdened by the past so long as it wasn't thought of.

Instead, they leaned over countertops for a table and chatted amicably between spoonfuls of minestrone. However, the past would not remain out of mind for long. The dinner was reminding Edward of the times spent in his old flat, when he had first befriended the Penguin. Back then he had rescued and nursed an injured Oswald. Now, their roles were reversed. Oswald had saved him, gave up his revenge, and Edward still couldn't figure out why.

"Why did you save me, Oswald?" He asked abruptly.

The question threw off their previously light hearted mood in an instant. Oswald swallowed, staring down into his bowl, unable to meet Ed's eyes. He had claimed it was because of trust. And that was the truth, but it wasn't the full truth.

"Like I told you before, I trust you. You came through for me when no one else did." Oswald said finally meeting Ed's gaze, "If it wasn't for you, I'd still be trapped in Arkham. You saved me and Martin. I could never repay that by just letting you die."

Edward took it all in, still wondering if there might be more to it. The way Oswald looked at him before on that pier. It looked like something more than trust. A part of him wanted it to be. 

"Y'know, you could have. To get your revenge." Edward replied, "But I'm glad you didn't."

Edward smiled at him, and Oswald felt over the moon. The light hearted atmosphere returned. Oswald smiled back and stood from his seat.

"Let's celebrate." He chirped, heading towards his stash of expensive wines and picking out a bottle. He poured the contents into two glasses and handed one to Ed. He made a toast, "To mutual trust and friendship."

Their glasses clinked.

Edward carefully sipped at his wine. Friendship. Was that really all it was? The pull they felt towards one another that kept drawing them back together time after time. It was because of trust?

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A couple of hours later, they were both no longer sober, having consumed a few bottles between them. They were back in the sitting room, lounging on the couch, sitting in intimately close proximity. Neither of them seemed to notice, or if they did, they did not care. They were as warmed by each other's presence as by the fire crackling in the fireplace. They talked long into the night, reminiscing on better days. The wine had warmed them as well. It was peaceful.

The alcoholic haze had gone a long way in dulling Edward's pain. He was beginning to feel drowzy. Whether it were the effects of the drink or the chaotic events of the day, he couldn't be sure. Probably some combination of both. And it was so comfortable here. It was like a dream. He leaned against Oswald's side and rested his heavy head on Oswald's shoulder. 

Oswald was startled by this, but held still, not wishing to spoil the contact. Tentatively, he lifted his arm to wrap around Ed, his hand resting on the other's shoulder. After everything that had come between them, Oswald never imagined he might one day hold Ed like this, but here they were. His heart hammered in his chest as though it might just break free of it's cage and soar. It raced for him. Could Edward hear it?

"If things had been different, do you think you could have fallen for me?" 

Surely it was the wine that had given him the courage to ask.

"Maybe. It had never occured to me before..." Edward answered honestly, "But once you were gone, it was strange, you were all I could ever think about."

"You thought about me?"

Surely it was the wine allowing Ed to be so open with him.

"I did. I even took pills just so I could see you again. I missed you so much, Oswald." Edward murmured sleepily.

Surely it was the wine talking. Edward couldn't really mean that.

"I missed you too."

He let his head dip down, lips lightly brushing Edward's forehead. It wasn't quite a kiss, but it could be. Oswald rested his cheek against the top of Ed's head and held him closer. He never wanted to let go. He pretended that he wouldn't have to. Just for tonight.

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Morning came and found the two men tangled up in each other. They had never made it off that couch. The once warming fire had died in the night, but Edward still felt warm snuggled up against Oswald, the man's coat draped over the two of them. He didn't notice the chill until he extricated himself from Oswald's arms and carefully sat up doing his best not to rouse his bedfellow. The man groaned and rolled over, but otherwise remained asleep.

Edward sat and watched him awhile. Oswald's features were softened in slumber, a look of peace that never existed for him awake. His brow unfurrowed, mouth slack and hanging slightly open, intense blue eyes hidden beneath closed lids. Edward imagined waking to the sight every morning. A longing sigh escaped him. If he stayed, he would only hurt him. He always did eventually. This was only just for tonight.

The night was over and so was the dream. But Edward stole one last moment. He leaned down, tilting a sleeping Oswald's head to meet him. He stole a kiss, pressing into soft, dozing lips that still tasted of wine. He lingered, reluctant to leave, kissing Oswald like it could last. And then he stole away.

"Goodbye, Oswald."

**Author's Note:**

> So there you have it. This could totally have happened. And it did. Yup. God, season 4 frustrated me! That leap from trust to betrayal was just so jarring. I love Ed, but I could just afghjjgfcxks!!! Punch his dumb, adorable face! Gah!!! I wrote this as a way to both fix the gap and make sense of what happened for myself. So... sorry it had to have a sad ending. If I wanted it to fit into canon, I had to do it this way, but believe me I was tempted to just throw away canon.


End file.
